


Light Reflects From Your Shadow

by larrystylinsons (sweetums)



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Demon!Harry - Freeform, Dubious Consent, M/M, Top!Harry, angel!louis, bottom!Louis, larry - Freeform, larry smut, larry stylinson - Freeform, lourry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-06
Updated: 2013-07-06
Packaged: 2017-12-17 22:26:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/872655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweetums/pseuds/larrystylinsons
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Out of all the binds between light and dark in the world, nothing works better than Louis and Harry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Light Reflects From Your Shadow

**Author's Note:**

> Yay! I wrote something! Demon!Harry and Angel!Louis plagues my mind day and night so I had no choice but to sit down and push myself to write it. This was initially inspired by the always beautiful artwork by Lauren (rockitrocket on tumblr) and the title is from Angels by The xx :) As we all know, kudos and feedback is all writers dream of x

In the near distance, Louis can hear the gentle strum of an acoustic guitar being picked. He smiles at the familiar tune as he idly stands close to a light tent, glancing upwards at the blinking stars. He loves nights where all the angels just gather to be with each other. It’s always on warm nights, with a scattering of billowing tents and cosy campfires. He feels peaceful; exactly how angels should feel all the time. That’s not always the feeling when there’s commotion about heavy duties on earth as well as elsewhere but here, with everyone so in sync with one another, it’s easy to slip into a blissful phase.

A gust of soft, summer breeze strokes Louis’ feathered wings, cooling a small patch. That’s when he hears the calm chatter start to rise along with other noises that hold similarities to quaking glass and pieces of silver hitting the floor. Before Louis can turn to see what the chaos was about, a dark figure emerges out of crisp, smoky air and engulfs the space he’s breathing in. He doesn’t know if he should look up, if he can look up, but from down here, he sees muscles drenched in oils and sweat. The smell of musk ash is undeniably from the pits and he knows straight away that it’s a demon. If the overwhelming aroma of pure heat isn’t enough, the inky, black markings are more than indications. Louis gulps because he’s alone, separated from everyone by tents, and he doesn’t know how to handle himself against the dark forms.

“Hi, Louis.” a gruff voice speaks. This demon knows him, at least enough to know his name. So slowly, Louis tilts his head upwards and takes in a muss of ominous curls burying pointed horns and hooded eyes in the shade of forest green. His breathing stutters, a wave of memories hoarding over his thoughts. The last time he’s seen that face was in training school, way back when he was only thirteen. When he was in training to become an angel.

“What are you doing here, Harry?” Louis wants to sound strong, angry, even. The wounds are still fresh and he doesn’t feel like picking at the poor stitching but he needn’t worry as it looks like Harry might just do the picking for him.

“Visiting old friends, aren’t I?” Harry smirks. “Lot’s changed. The guys don’t seem to be as friendly as they were before. Bit weird for angels, innit?”

Harry pauses for a moment to glint his dangerous eyes down at Louis.

“But you, you’re still as cute as ever.” He finishes, with a flash of those dimples.

Louis is fuming. How dare Harry come into a place that he is most definitely not welcome but mostly, how dare he talk to him as if things are okay.

“Leave, Harry.” Louis whispers; quiet but firm. There’s no need to drag on an ugly encounter like this one.

Harry tosses his head downwards then sweeps the brown locks back up, never easing his smirk.

“But we just got here! The boys are doing their rounds right now; I’m thinking Zayn’s got some catching up to do.” He winks at Louis then brings himself into the side of the angel’s swept fringe. “Speaking of catch ups, we’re in need of one as well.” Harry lingers at the crook of Louis’ neck before he’s being pushed away by miniature palms of butter smooth skin.

“Get away from me. I’m leaving.” Louis knocks Harry’s body away before turning to escape but his thin arms are caught by a huge hand, crawling with bulging veins. The hand yanks his frame, causing a short whimper, and Louis is brought extremely close to Harry’s steaming face.

“Not so fast, angel.” Harry spits, his feigned pleasantries clearly forgotten. “I didn’t say the catch up was optional.” He loosens the grip slightly. “Besides, you don’t wanna go back to your little camping site after the boys are done with it.”

Louis urges himself to scream or shout anything to signal for help away from whatever it is that Harry has planned for him. Being around Harry is the worst kind of pain, like thorns prickling the inside of his skin. It’s poisonous and he’s always promised himself it will never happen again.

“Let me go, please.” Louis croaks out. Despite everything, Harry is a demon. That counts stronger than any history between them.

“How about we have that catch up, yeah?” Harry sets his lips into a symmetrical line, eyes glazed with red. Louis can’t ague any further as he’s shoved along the heavily shadowed path that leads into the north of the woods, a place angels never ventured. Because that’s where the pits reside.

-

Through the sheet of nothing but blackness, Louis can make out a crooked opening. He’s been pushed passed many of what looks like stronger and less friendly versions of huts which he assumes are the homes of demons and he also assumes that the one they’ve come to halt at is Harry’s. He’s so frightened, Harry hasn’t said a word since their journey into the trees and he doesn’t know what to expect. The opening widens after Harry fidgets with some stones and then they’re both entering a dark room. He topples onto something soft, perhaps a bed, as a strong force wracks his body. The hanging lights are lit by a surge of fire, spreading yellow flames around the room and canting eerie shadows. The flames illuminate Harry’s glowering face from above the bed. Louis can feel his stare and moves to pull down his white robe and smooth out his wings.

“So, Louis. Have you missed me?” Harry says as he nonchalantly drops himself down onto the mattress. Louis scoots himself away, hugging his knees and facing the lightless walls.

“You have to talk to me sooner or later.”

Louis remains silent. If he can’t fight Harry then he won’t give in to what he wants. He can hear Harry heavily sighing and thinks that maybe; he can wear him down eventually.

“Why are you so mad?” It’s not a proper question, sounding more like Harry wondering to himself but it triggers a snap within Louis and he just bursts.

“What am _I_ so mad?! How could you ask that, Harry? Do you remember being thirteen? Because I do. I remember thinking everyone was in training together, to become angels. I remember meeting someone and wanting to hold their hand and kiss their cheek and wanting them to want that too. I was waiting, all five years of training; I was waiting till it was over so I could ask permission to be with you. Then when I did, I find out that I can’t. Because you’re a demon.” Louis lashes out all the pent up frustrations, the ones tearing him apart. Tears break away from the confinements of his eyes and he feels someone brushing it away.

“I thought I loved you, Harry. And sometimes, I thought you loved me. So why did you do it? Why did you become a demon?”

Harry strokes his hand down Louis’ fuzzy cheeks, keeping his claws hidden in case it scratched the delicate skin.

“I had to. Being an angel was never for me. I was born to do this, be this. You have to understand.” Harry let his words rush out but his explanation doesn’t deter Louis’ helpless emotions.

“But I did. I loved you, Louis.” Harry carefully makes his way closer to Louis. “I still do.” And then he’s closing the gap and they’re kissing.

It feels like everything Louis’ built himself up not to feel. It feels like everything boiling over and enveloping his every being. He clings to it because he doesn’t ever want to let go, logic be damned.

Harry pushes him so his back is pillowed by his wings and Harry is looming over. An insistent tongue prods itself into his mouth, licking everywhere and Harry’s deep skin has suddenly turned up in temperature and every touch from him feels like a burn. Thick lips leave his own to travel the expanse of his clothed chest and begins sloppily kissing and mouthing the area. Louis’ lost himself in the new found sensation of blazing desire but then he feels heavy hands inching itself underneath the bottom of his robe and pulls away quickly. He stares at Harry, fear written all over his face. Angels meet with the one they want to be with then celebrate their love, forever. That’s all he knows.

“What’s wrong, baby?” Harry pants, brows furrowed with confusion and anger. He was just getting started and even though he cares for Louis, the demon part of him cares for his what he wants.

Louis’ bottom lip trembles because the last thing he wants is to anger Harry but he’s never done anything like this before. He’s had to remain pure, just like all the other angels.

“Has anyone ever touched you down there?” Harry questions; stroking the inside of Louis’ jittery thighs. Louis shakes his small head.

“It’s okay, I’ll just have to show you.” A dark snarl appears on Harry’s face as he’s completely consumed by the fire of his desires. He sees a little angel, completely clean and crisp, waiting for him to destroy.

Harry pulls roughly at the white robe currently shielding him from Louis’ curvy body, and soon enough, it’s completely off and thrown to the side. His own black trousers follow, leaving them both in their underwear. When his gaze casts downwards, he sees Louis, shaken up and scared. Everything about him is smooth and so innocent that it’s driving Harry crazy. He slips one of his achingly long, clawed fingers into the tiny briefs Louis is sporting and touches his thick penis. Louis growls with shock at the touch but Harry knows it can’t be a bad feeling. He slips the briefs down Louis’ ivory legs and focuses on Louis, utterly bare.

The angel is so perfect, with thin, pouty lips in shades of rose and not a taint in sight. He’s gorgeous enough for Harry to stop in his tracks to drop a chaste peck onto those supple lips before he carries on. Taking Louis’ knees with both of his hefty hands, Harry pries them apart to reveal a velvety hole. He’s never seen an angel’s hole before and he doesn’t know if they’re all beautiful or if it’s just Louis. He can’t help but sweep a finger across it and see baby blue eyes widen.

“Harry!” Louis cries out gingerly. He can feel the inside of himself flutter the same way his ruffled wings do when he flies. It’s definitely different from all the other touches he’s ever experienced.

Harry is fascinated with the way Louis thrashes so beautifully around the thin sheets and goes to snatch a bottle from the side. His eyes are ignited by red as he sloppily drips the lubricating liquid onto his clenching fingers. Reaching in with an unyielding middle finger, he touches the pink-tinged rim and slowly scrapes in a circular motion, skin dragging on skin. Louis makes gentle noises at the airy friction. Then Harry finally plunges the finger inside and he arches to accentuate all his little curves.

After what Harry deems has been long enough, more forceful fingers find their way into Louis’ warm walls and flexes themselves all around; pushing apart the closeness. Harry lightly crushes his knees further inwards then adjusts him so that he’s now all bent and exposed. When Harry leans his head of unruly hair, a pair of hard points prodding out of them, and lands at Louis’ tiny head, the angel chokes out a gasp and reaches his short arms out before they get driven downwards by Harry’s puissant hands. They clamp over his elegant palms, unmoving like loaded weight on frail paper.

“I’m gonna fuck you, now. Turn you filthy.” Harry’s voice comes out in a brutal, low growl as he bites at Louis’ wired skin.

Louis shudders, letting himself be swayed with Harry’s movements between his legs. Harry clears Louis of his fingers but swiftly delves in, huge and merciless.

Whining loudly, Louis’ internal self scorches at the full intrusion. He wants to push everything away and drown himself in something less hot, less dirty. Less sinful. But adjusting isn’t the issue when he feels the thickness rut and rub inside.

“Please, stop. I’m hurting.” Louis stutters, attempting to snap Harry out of his lust filled trance.

It doesn’t work as the push and pull only gets blunter and needier but Louis’ all of sudden tingling and desperately sliding himself into the thrusts. The dynamic becomes raw, stacking up into a messy climax with grunts from Harry’s force, sweet whimpers from Louis’ pliant role and cotton soft feathers parting ways with his wings. They tip toe away on the weightless air, tenderly showering around the grappling bodies in a quaint mass of fair white. With the tingles building, Louis senses a warm spread and something is happening to him but he can’t figure it out. However, Harry can because appearing before his stormy presence is a ring of cloudy gold above Louis’ slight head. His halo.

It’s so enticing in its pureness that it reminds Harry of what he’s doing. Startlingly, what happens next is that Louis is at his peak and comes a stream of runny moist accompanied by a docile moan. It thoroughly wrecks him, diluting his unblemished image. The dishevelled mess works Harry into his own outburst and he lets go inside of Louis, gushing out his load into Louis’ spent hole.

They stay stuck to one another for a long time, both out of it and boneless. As soon as Harry removes himself, Louis cowers away and unsuccessfully bars himself from the demon. Harry sees the shaken demeanour and grips his scrambling body to pull into his own.

“Why’re you scared, Louis? We just made love, baby. You’re staying with me, okay?” Harry’s eyes have gone back to lambent olive and he tucks Louis’ tiny posture into his broad body. He peppers Louis with kisses to smother his aches and inhales the lovely scent of his feathery hair.

“No, Harry. I can’t! What if the officials find out and-and I get my wings taken away.” Louis starts to sob, his already frail body shivering.

“That won’t happen. I’ll keep you safe, protect you. You can be my angel now. Just mine.” Harry assures Louis while subtly laying him down. He hugs into him tightly and summons up an array of forces within his head.

As Louis is about to protest, an intense force blankets him and his thoughts and smothers down the surfacing turmoil. The worries disperse and he’s left with nothing but sleep.

Looking down at the delicate features lacing Louis, sound asleep in a content trance, Harry tightens his hold and vows to never let go of his angel.


End file.
